


It's All Good

by Cinnamean



Series: Voltron: The Legendary Sickfics [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Broken Bones, Burns, Fever, Injury, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance comes to the rescue', M/M, Sickfic, Slight Violence, Whump, injured keith, sick keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamean/pseuds/Cinnamean
Summary: Keith basically claims the training room to himself at nighttime. Everyone knows this and it has become common knowledge.But one night, he goes to practice while on the edge of sickness, causing himself to get hurt. Unable to get up, the only thing he can do is call for help.Lo and behold, a hero comes dashing.





	It's All Good

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a short little thing I wrote from a prompt I got on Tumblr. It's my first time writing broken bones and sick Keith, so I hope I did okay! Practice makes perfect, or whatever. 
> 
> It's unedited, but hmu if you want to be a beta cause I desperately need one to fix my grammar ;-;

Keith was known for staying up late in the training room. So much in fact that everyone knew not to bother him, unless it was Shiro there with a water pouch to catch him as he collapsed from exhaustion. Other than that, it was his time to himself.

 

He moved gracefully across the floor, dodging the gladiator’s electric staff with ease. Not long after the match started, the bot was on the ground in two.

 

Keith wiped the sweat from his forehead. Huh, he felt hotter than usual, his armor stuffy. Maybe it was just the temperature of the room?

 

Without a second thought, he yelled out, “Start training level ten.”

 

Three bots rose from the floor, two of them armed with a sword and one with a staff. Keith stanced himself and waited for them to strike first. His palms were sweaty and it was hard to keep a good grip on his bayard. His eyes felt heavy, but he forced them open. He wanted just one more match before he went to bed.

 

The bot with the staff ran forward first and he blocked it easily with his bayard. With a grunt, he pushed it off of him, his arms painfully sore. The other two struck, one of them catching Keith in the side with the hilt of their weapon.

 

Keith told himself he only imagined that crack and kept fighting. He dodged and danced around the room, finally defeating one of the sword bots with a slice to the head. While he sighed in relief, the staff bot struck him in the arm.

 

He hissed between his teeth, his bayard slipping from his sweaty hands as he clutched his upper arm. His eyes were hot and he was blind to the sword bot creeping up on him from behind.

 

He turned around too late before it swung, its sword slamming into his helmet, sending him to the ground.

 

Moving was painful, but he refused to lose this match. Using his good arm, he reached out to his bayard on the ground, only for his hand to be pinned down by an electric staff. He screamed as the currents shocked him, tears spilling.

 

Through heavy gasps, he gave up. “E-End simulation!” he yelled, his voice hoarse.

 

Both of the bots lost their glow, dropping back into the floor. Keith struggled to catch his breath, his whole body aching. Sweat dripped cold down his neck and he felt himself shivering in the cold of the room.

 

He sniffed and tried to get up, but his limbs gave out beneath him. His arms screamed in pain. Fuck, he  _ definitely _ broke something.

 

With shaky, stubborn hand, he pressed the distress button on the side of his helmet, praying someone had their helmet with them.

 

…

 

Man, Lance was  _ exhausted  _ from training that day. Allura could be brutal sometimes, but that didn’t affect her beauty.

 

He stretched his arms above his head when he returned to his room, still in his armor. Ugh, he was so sweaty and smelly that he disgusted himself. He peeled off his uniform and hopped into the shower, wiping away the grime from his skin.

 

When he got out, he wrapped his fluffy bathrobe around him and put on his signature b lue lion s lippe rs. He eyed the pile of armor on his bathroom floor and shrugged. He could deal with it later, no point in going out this late at night. Besides, he was tired.

 

And with that, he went to bed with his mask on, sleeping without the headphones. Pidge finally found out he stole them, so he’d have to get them back again. Shame.

 

… Then he was woken up a few hours later from an annoying beeping sound.

 

Lance groaned, covering his head with a pillow. “Ugh, what the hell is that?!” He sat up and flung the covers off of him, flicking the overhead lights on. He rubbed his eyes, forgetting about his mask and getting the green goop all over his hands.

 

“Eugh, great,” he complained, walking to his bathroom. The beeping noise got louder as he moved and he looked around in confusion. Where was that sound coming from?! Was it some castle malfunction again? He didn’t think he could live through another one of those.

 

He opened the door and saw his pile of armor on the tile. He quirked his eyebrow when he saw the flashing red light from his helmet. Wait, that was the sound? His helmet?

 

Lance quickly washed off his hands and picked up the helmet. It was a distress signal… This late at night? Was it bugging out?

 

He set it on his head and pressed the button. “Lance here, what’s the situation,” he said with a yawn.

 

“L-Lance?”

 

Lance jumped, not expecting Keith’s voice so close to his ear. “W-What’s up?” He stuttered in a flustered panic.

 

“I…” Keith trailed off and Lance leaned in, “I need your help.”

 

“Wow, that must have been painful for you,” Lance joked, trying to push down his growing anxiety. Keith literally  _ never _ asked for help, especially not from him.

 

“Shut up,” the other growled. “I… I can’t get up.”

 

“You’ve fallen and you can’t get up?” Lance snickered despite himself.

 

“Now’s not the time,” Keith barked. “Please just-” he wheezed and sucked in  a deep breath, making Lance concerned.

 

“Okay, serious mode, got it. Where are you? Training room?”

 

Keith hummed affirmation and Lance threw his doors open, running down the halls. Man, he must have looked like he lost his mind. Sprinting around the castle in his bathrobe (with nothing under it, whoops), his slippers, and a helmet on his head.

 

“I’m almost there, just hang on,” Lance rambled, continuing to talk. He couldn’t tell if it was for Keith or his own nerves at this point.

 

He skirted around the corner of the hall, the training room just ahead. Lance ran in, automatically spotting Keith’s crumpled body on the ground.

 

“Keith!” Lance yelled out his name, throwing his helmet to the ground. He slid across the floor to the other, picking him up gingerly.

 

Keith groaned loudly, his body on fire as he was moved. He cursed under his breath, limp in relief as Lance removed his sweltering helmet from his head. He swore under his breath as the other moved him the wrong way, upsetting his probably broken rib.

 

“Shit, Keith, what happened?” Lance asked. Keith’s body was speckled bruised, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. What was was his erratic breathing and crumpled arm. His hand was burnt black, the protective suit underneath their armor completely singed off. His other arm was held awkwardly to his side and Lance had a sneaking suspicion that it was broken.

 

Keith was silent and didn’t answer Lance’s question. He didn’t think he would have been able to either with how much his head was swimming from the pain.

 

“Fuck, dude, is that blood in your hair?”

 

Lance’s hand barely touched the top of his head and Keith clenched his eyes and hissed loudly. He opened them back up and yep, that was blood on Lance’s fingers.

 

Keith heard Lance curse under his breath and bit back a yell when he was picked up without warning, his body screaming for relief. He squirmed in the other’s arms, too sluggish to do too much.

 

“Hush, I’m taking you to the medbay,” Lance murmured soothingly. “We’ll get this fixed, don’t worry.”

 

Lance began to run again, trying to keep from josling Keith too much in his arms. Keith swallowed his dignity and leaned his head up against Lance’s chest. His bathrobe was so soft it was like a pillow.

 

He was rocked into a painful sleep to the rhytm of Lance’s steps, exhaustion finally pulling him under.

 

…

 

Keith felt himself falling from the cryopod before he opened his eyes, yelping in surprise. Someone was there to catch him before he hit the ground and that someone was Lance.

 

“Glad to see me?”

 

Keith rubbed his hands over his head, a headache pounding under his eyes. “What happened?”

 

“Damn did that bot erase your memories too?”

 

Keith scowled. “Not that, after you… Y-You found me,” he stuttered in embarrassment. Had his crush really carried him in here, or did he dream that up?

 

Keith imagined the blush dusting Lance’s cheeks. “Well, I brought you in here and you were put into a pod by Coran, no biggie. Actually, kind of a biggie. Yo u had two fractured ribs, a broken arm, hand with third degree burns, and not to mention the head injury.”

 

He put his face in his hands and groaned. “Please tell me Shiro doesn’t know.”

 

Lance laughed and it didn’t irritate Keith as much as it would have, even if his head ached. “Please, he was one of the first ones to find out. Might wanna prepare yourself for a lecture later.”

 

“I’d really rather n-ah-n-ah…” Keith’s breath hitched and he sneezed into the crook of his elbow. He sniffed, his nose suddenly stuffed with cotton. “Ugh…”

 

“Whoa, you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

 

Keith shook his head. “No I’m fine, just a-”

 

He was cut off as Coran entered the room in his usual boisterous way. “Morning there, number two! Enjoy your nap?”

 

“Ha ha,” Keith said sarcastically, his nose awfully congested. He missed the way Lance raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”

 

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Coran said cheerfully, “We still need to give you a check over. We put you in there for less time than normal because of your concussion.” The older Altean pressed a button and an examination table flipped out from the wall. “Now, sit over here.”

 

Keith sat down with a huff, his nose itching with another sneeze too stubborn to come out. Coran held out a stick and Keith looked at him with confusion.

 

“It’s a heurichial! It’s for taking temperature! Now, open up your mouth and let’s see.”

 

Keith reluctantly opened his mouth, all too aware of Lance looking at him from the side of the table. The thing-a-ma-bob beeped and Coran pulled it out, reading the numbers.

 

“Hmm, according to the average human temperature, yours is a little too high. I believe you might be sick with a fever.”

 

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

 

Coran hummed to himself. “Well, just wait until you don’t do anything about it and it all hits you in one shot!”

 

“Now, hand me your arm, the one that was burned.”

 

Keith held out his hand with a huff, wincing as Coran took it. He bent it forward and back, making him wince in pain.

 

“Your wrist is sprained as well! It’s not too bad, so we can wrap it and let it heal on its own. But that means no training for you.”

 

Lance squaked and placed his hands on his waist. “What! That’s not fair!”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, definitely one hundred percent not pouting. “I’d gladly trade places with you.”

 

“Enough of that, you two!” Coran waved. He reached down and grabbed something from underneath the table, a weird, purple ring. He pressed a small button on the side and it suddenly grew in size, large enough to fit over Keith’s head.

 

Coran took Keith’s wrist again and put the ring over it, pressing the button a second time. It shrank down and slowly melded over his wrist and hand, stiff, but not uncomfortable. Keith flexed his hand, unused to the weird sensation.

 

“A few days with that on and you’ll be just fine!”

 

The Altean checked for anything else, but other than that he was fine. Keith was dismissed and forced into bedrest. Or in other words, solitude in his room.

 

He laid in his bed on his side, his headache absolutely killing him. None of the lights were on yet it felt like someone was stabbing his skull. Despite what Coran said about a fever, he was absolutely freezing, shaking from under his covers.

 

Eventually, he got tired of it and forced himself to rest, hoping some sleep would make it better.

 

When he woke up later, it was anything but.

 

He could barely breathe through his nose and the second he sat up, he sneezed so hard that his throat turned into sandpaper. His whole body was trembling and even his teeth were chattering together. The blankets did nothing to help him, no matter how tight he kept them around his body.

 

Keith sniffed, cursing to himself. The headache was worse, not better. Just his luck.

 

There was nothing he could do but sit there in the darkness of his own room, stuck in his own thoughts and suffering through the pain. He lost track of time staring at the ceiling, wishing death would hurry up and come for him.

 

Then there was a knock on his door. “Hello? You alive in there?”

 

Keith answered with an irritated groan. He was not in the mood to deal with Lance’s shenanigans. But despite this, he came in anyways, the door sliding open and light spilling into the room.

 

Keith deadass hissed at the light, hiding his face beneath the covers. He heard it slide close again, but didn’t move from his spot. There was a hand on his back and he jolted.

 

“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Lance said. Keith pulled his head up and even in the dim of the room, he could see Lance’s eyes sparkling.

 

“It’s fine,” Keith muttered, pushing himself up with his good hand. He winced as he sat up, his wrist throbbing. The mucus in his nose lightened up a bit, now letting him breathe through one nostril. Progress.

 

“Did you need something?” Keith asked, feeling vulnerable. Lance was kneeling on the side of his bed, his face in his hands.

 

“Oh, I was just here to check up on you.” The darkness covered up both of their blushing faces. “Ah, Coran told me to, I mean.”

 

Keith nodded, too awkward to think of anything to say. Lance nodded back and they stayed in silence.

 

Until Keith sneezed again. And again. And again. Three sneezes, all in a row.

 

Lance whistled low. “Damn, getting worse?”

 

Keith sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “No,” he replied, wincing at how congested he sounded.

 

Lance physically cringed. “Ew! Dude, ask for some tissues, not that nasty shit! Hold on, give me a second.”

 

He stood up and dashed into Keith’s bathroom, returning not even a second later with a box of baby blue tissues. “Use these. Here, let me check your temperature.”

 

Keith tried to avoid Lance’s hand, but he was against the wall and had nowhere to go. His blush probably made his skin hotter, but he didn’t find that important enough to mention.

 

“Yep, you’ve got a fever there, mullet. Let me get you a wet cloth.”

 

Lance dove back into the bathroom and Keith laid down on his bed. This was mortifying. Who thought it would end up like this? Being cared for by his crush? It’s like some bad movie.

 

A cold, wet rag was slapped on his head and he yelped, flailing his arms. Lance laughed, but Keith could only pout.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said between gasps. “I couldn’t resist.”

 

Keith just grumbled under his breath. Lance took back the rag, folding it neatly into a rectangle. “Lay down for me, please?”

 

Ugh, more blushing.

 

Lance gingerly set the rag on his forehead, brushing Keith’s bangs out of the way. The action was soft and caring, as if he had done it multiple times.

 

“I used to take care of my niece and nephew whenever they got sick, so I’m used to this,” Lance said, a soft smile on his face. “Sometimes I miss them a lot. I can’t wait until this is all over and Zarkon is defeated so I can return home.”

 

Keith stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. He had no family of his own, so he couldn’t relate as much. The only person he sort of counted as family was Shiro, but he already got him back.

 

Keith reached out for Lance’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He could see the surprise in the other’s eyes, even in the dark. “I’m sure you’ll see them again, don’t worry.”

 

Lance huffed, covering a laugh. “Of course I’ll see them again, mullet.” He paused. “Get some rest.”

 

He was already starting to drift off, so he closed his eyes, letting himself slip. If he felt Lance threading his fingers through his hair, Keith didn’t say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you are interested, my sickfic blog is plumpwhump: https://plumpwhump.tumblr.com/
> 
> All reviews and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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